


Like Real People Do

by the_one_that_fell



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Getting Together, Ghosts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:10:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7265761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Jenny and Mandy failed as matchmakers, and one time they succeeded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Real People Do

**Author's Note:**

> i couldn't sleep and just kept thinking: what do the haus ghosts DO all day? aren't they BORED? and then this was born. 
> 
> (also: titles are hard. why.)

Jenny was bored. 

This wasn't uncommon in the afterlife. It was hard to get ahold of the latest Cosmo while trapped in a hockey frat, and though she loved Mandy with all her heart, it's not like they had much new to talk about anymore. A very bad part of her sometimes wished that someone on the hockey team would kick the bucket so they'd have a whole new person in their weird, dead, little family. 

That, or that one of the boys would start dating a girl who read Us Weekly. She'd be okay with either, really. 

Every so often, Jenny and Mandy passed the time by playing matchmakers. It was a fun game, even more fun than scaring people or turning them against each other, and with much cuter results. 

Their current project was getting Ransom and Holster together, and they'd succeeded to a degree, but the boys were being such  _ boys _ about it that Jenny had given up with direct meddling, content to let them be idiots until graduation. Mandy still tried something every now and then - scaring Ransom out of his bed and into Holster’s, hiding all of Ransom’s pajama pants so he'd wander around in his boxer briefs more often, breaking the lock on the bathroom door while they were both getting ready for class - but was clearly getting frustrated. 

“I don't get why they won't just admit they're super in love,” Mandy said one day as they floated above Shitty’s bed. Shitty and Lardo were sprawled across it, having some sort of Serious Conversation, though Jenny suspected they were just stoned and trying to figure out “what exactly, like, is  _ art _ , you know?” 

Jenny shrugged. “We figured our shit out, like, during Rush. I didn't even realize I was into girls until then.” 

Mandy smiled. “I guess we’re just super emotionally mature or whatever. And hockey players are dumb as hell.” 

“Shitty’s not  _ so _ bad,” Jenny said. In a weird, vague way, he reminded her of her brother, Joe. (From Ransom’s Facebook account, she'd learned that her brother was now a lawyer, married, a father of two, and a proud citizen of Seattle. Sometimes she wondered if he'd moved that far from home because of what happened to her.) “Jack’s smart. And Bitty’s such a lil cutie!” 

Mandy rolled her eyes fondly. “The Haus certainly has started smelling better since Bits moved in. But look at all of them, fumbling around like they can't tell that they're in love? In Lardo’s defense, Shitty is weirdly affectionate with everyone. Mixed signals, for sure. 

Jenny sighed. “Our methods are foolproof. I don’t know why they’re not working.” 

With a sudden gasp, Mandy grinned. “Bitty and Jack! They’re not nearly as slow as Holster and Ransom - we use our methods on them and I’m sure they’ll be dating in no time!” 

Jenny chuckled fondly. Mandy was so easily excitable, even after twenty years of afterlife tedium. “Okay, okay. Let’s put Ransom and Holster on the back burner. Bitty and Jack should be an easy, little project, right?”

“Yes!” Mandy zoomed over to hug Jenny, squealing a little. “This is gonna be great!” 

Jenny wrapped her arms around Mandy, smiling into her shoulder. “Totally. So totally awesome.” 

  
  


i.

Saturday morning runs were Jack’s favorite part of the week. It was one of the few times campus was ever quiet, everyone tucked away in the library or hungover in their beds. Ducking in between buildings and crossing back and forth across the river made Jack feel like an explorer, discovering an empty, new world, entirely alone. It was easy to turn off his mind on these runs, let the beauty and stillness of Samwell wash over him as he concentrated on the movement of his body, the air filtering in and out of his lungs. 

As he paused outside Founders to grab a drink from the water fountain, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was 7 a.m., too early for anyone at the Haus to be awake, but that was Bittle’s name on his screen, notifying him of a text. Jack’s heart skipped and beat and he smiled. 

**Bittle - u r a cutie w a booty!!! ;D**

“...what?” 

Jack stared at the message, confounded. Was this a joke? What did that even mean?

**Jack - Bittle, are you still drunk?**

That seemed the most logical conclusion. Jack hadn’t attended the party last night, but he remembered seeing Bittle dancing on the coffee table with Lardo and Nursey, swaying dangerously close to the edge. He assumed the loud thump, followed by cheers from the crowd, that he’d heard several minutes later had been the three of them finally falling to the ground. 

When no reply came, Jack finished out his run and headed back to the Haus. He hoped Bittle hadn’t used up all the eggs in his last baking endeavor. An omelet sounded really good right now. 

Jack entered the kitchen, heading straight for the cabinet to grab a (possibly) clean glass for some water when he noticed Bittle slumped at the table, groaning and nursing a coffee. He didn’t have his phone on hand, surprisingly. 

“You alright, Bittle?” Jack asked, smirking a little. Bitty groaned again in response. 

“My entire body hurts,” Bittle whispered hoarsely. “I think Holster and Ransom made me recreate one of my figure skating routines in the backyard last night on a makeshift  slip-’n-slide.”

That explained the soapy tarp he’d seen in the yard this morning. Jack smiled into his glass of water, wishing someone had woken him up to watch. “Sounds like fun,” he said, not even chirping. “Good thing you didn’t break something. I need my winger in one piece.” 

Bittle lifted his head from his arms to give Jack a weak smile, then winced at the movement. He let out a soft whine and squeezed his eyes shut. “Never let me drink Kamikazes again.”

Jack chuckled softly, ducking into the fridge to grab the egg carton. It was suspiciously light considering that Jack had bought it two days again. “You want eggs? I’m thinking of making an omelet.”

Bitty sighed dramatically. “If I eat anything I will _ die _ ,” he mumbled. “I might throw up this coffee. I’m undecided.” 

“Suit yourself.” Jack began cracking eggs and chopping vegetables, trying to keep his actions as quiet as possible. The rest of the Haus was as silent as the grave, save for the occasional groan from Bittle. 

Then, Jack remembered the text he’d received that morning. Bittle was certainly hungover, but seemed pretty lucid. Why did he send that incomprehensible text, then? Now Jack was curious. 

“So, Bittle,” he began, wondering if he could pass this off as a chirp and not a genuine need to know if his teammate actually thought he was cute. “What was up with that text this morning? Did you lose a bet?” 

Bittle raised his head slowly, brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?” 

Jack scooped his omelet onto a plate and turned to face Bittle. “That text you sent me this morning. Something about my ass.” 

Bittle’s eyes widened in horror and he ran from the room. Jack sat down at the table, momentarily worried he’d said something wrong, until Bittle came back into the room, staring at his phone. 

“I didn’t send that!” He cried, slumping back down in his chair. “I was upchucking in the bathroom this mornign.”

To his own surprise, Jack found he was disappointed by this answer. “Oh. Then who did?” 

Bittle sighed. “My money’s on Ransom. I was…” He paused, cheeks growing pink. “... _ lamenting _ being single last night and Ransom swore he’d find me love before he graduates.” Bittle let out a soft laugh and rolled his eyes. “I’m lucky, I suppose. It looks like he only texted  _ you _ .”

Jack chewed thoughtfully on a piece of omelet, then said, slowly, “So you  _ don’t _ think I’m a ‘cutie with a booty?’”

Bittle’s response was worth any awkwardness Jack felt. His face turned as red as a tomato, and he stuttered for a full minute before saying, “It is  _ too early _ for this kind of chirping, Mr. Zimmermann.” He stood with a huff. “If you need me, I’ll be slowly dying upstairs.” 

Jack’s laughter reverberated through the Haus, waking up several incredibly hungover, incredibly annoyed hockey players, unaware that two ghosts floated just above his head, frowning in disappointment. As if  _ Ransom _ would be as good of a matchmaker as them. _ As. If.  _

 

ii.

The Haus reverberated with Bitty’s wail of despair.

Shitty stuck his head into the kitchen, munching on a granola bar. “Everything okay, Bits?” 

Bitty whipped around, face red, eyes wild. “Where is it?” 

Unconsciously, Shitty took a step backwards. “Where's what?”

“My baking supplies!” Bitty shrieked, tugging at his hair. “Who took my baking supplies?!”

Shitty peered over Bitty’s shoulder and gasped. Every pie tin, cookie sheet, rolling pin, whisk -  _ you name it _ \- was gone from the cabinets Bitty had commandeered his frog year. Shitty whistled, eyes growing wide. 

“Brah, I don't know who did this,” he said with a grimace. “But clearly they have a death wish.” 

Bitty stood in the middle of the kitchen absolutely silent, shoulders shaking. Shitty thought he'd never looked smaller, for just a moment, then Bitty straightened up, something almost manic glinting in his eyes.

“ADAM BIRKHOLTZ. JUSTIN OLURANSI. GET YOUR BUTTS DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT.” 

In seconds Ransom and Holster were down the stairs, filing into the kitchen with terrified looks on their faces. Bitty very rarely pulled out full names, but when he did it usually meant you were  _ in trouble _ . 

“Where is it all?” He asked, voice dangerously soft. “Where have you hidden it?” 

Holster and Ransom exchanges twin looks of confusion. Shitty coughed and nodded at the strikingly empty cabinets over Bitty’s head. They both gasped.

“Bro, what happened?” 

“Bits, man, it wasn't us!” 

Bitty stared them both into silence, arms crossed, foot tapping the kitchen linoleum in a slow, ominous tattoo. “If it wasn't Shitty and it wasn't you two, then who was it? Jack?”

Jenny and Mandy giggled at that. Ransom looked around the kitchen, eyes wide, searching for the noise. No one else noticed. 

“No…” Holster said, sounding like a little kid being lectured by a teacher. “Jack wouldn’t do that. But we didn’t either! We promise!” 

“Yeah, Bits,” Shitty said. “We love your pies too much to disturb the sanctity of the Haus kitchen. You gotta know that by know.” 

Bitty sighed. “Yeah, I know. But where did it all go? Some of them were gifts from my Moomaw…” He looked down, lips twitching into a heartbreaking frown, and Jenny almost felt guilty.

Holster snapped his fingers just as Ransom gasped. It was almost like two identical light bulbs had flashed above their heads. “The LAX team!” They shouted in unison. 

Bitty scowled. “Why would the LAX team steal by pie tins?” 

Shitty coughed awkwardly. “We...might’ve stolen all the beer from their basement last night…” He said, trailing off as Bitty’s face darkened. 

Ransom jumped in. “We’ll go give it back right now, Bits! We didn’t expect retribution  _ this heinous _ .” 

“Yeah,” Holster agreed. “We just thought they’d, like, set our lawn on fire or something.” 

It was, of course, at this moment that Jack wandered into the kitchen. “Please don’t set anything on fire,” he said mildly, moving around Bitty to grab a banana from the counter. He paused, noticing the empty cabinets and Bitty’s distressed expression. “What did you idiots  _ do _ ?” He asked, voice low and severe. 

Shitty clapped Jack on the shoulder, unfazed by Jack’s sudden shift to anger, but Ransom and Holster backed away. “We’re working on fixing this little problem, Jacky-Boy. No need to freak out.” He motioned for Ransom and Holster to leave. “We’ll be back shortly. Keep Bits entertained while we’re gone.” 

He scurried from the room, shouting something at Ransom and Holster about grabbing the wheelbarrow from the backyard, and Jenny and Mandy frowned. Bitty was supposed to go looking for his things! And eventually find them all in Jack’s room! They had it timed perfectly with Jack returning from his morning run, all sweaty and high on endorphins. And  _ then _ he’d find Bitty poking around his room, and maybe he’d take off his shirt ‘cause he was overheated, and  _ then- _

Okay. In retrospect, it wasn’t one of their better plans. 

“Don’t worry, Bittle,” Jack said, clasping Bitty’s shoulder gently. “They’ll get your stuff back.” 

Bitty sighed. “Oh, it’s not a big deal, I guess. I thought it was just the boys playing a prank on me, but…” 

Jack frowned. “But what?” 

Bitty shrugged, sitting down at the kitchen table. “I’m used to it. The boys used to steal my clothes in the locker room in middle school, while I was in the shower. Sometimes they’d throw my homework in the toilets, or tear up my notebooks, or hide my books.” He laughed bitterly and shrugged. “No one’s ever gone after my baking supplies before. It feels so...personal.” 

Jack sat down in the chair next to Bitty and grabbed both of his shoulders, forcing him to look up at Jack. “If it  _ was _ the lacrosse team, I’ll make sure they pay for this, okay? We’re your team, we have your back, Bittle, and I promise you they won’t get away with this.”

Bitty smiled softly at Jack. “Thank you. That means a lot, honestly.” 

Jack nodded, smiling a little himself, and stood. “I’m going to take a shower, but if we need to launch an attack against the LAX house, tell the guys to wait for me.”

“Will do, Jack,” Bitty said with a laugh. “Go, get clean, you smell like a barn.” 

Jack rolled his eyes and left, grinning like an idiot as he jogged up the stairs. There was a moment of silence as Bitty peeked out of the window to watch Ransom and Holster struggle with a huge wheelbarrow of beer, then Jack let out a loud shout of surprise. 

“WHO PUT PIE TINS IN MY BED?!”

Mandy groaned and floated towards the living room, mumbling something about going back to the drawing board. Despite herself, Jenny laughed. 

 

iii.

Eric Bittle did  _ not _ believe in ghosts. The only ghost ever brought up in his household was the Holy Ghost, and even then he wasn’t so sure about that one. Ghosts made for fun stories, like the ones he heard around the campfire as a child, curled up next to his cousins, their faces sticky from s’mores and eyes wide with terror. Ghosts weren’t  _ real _ . 

Eric Bittle  _ did _ , however, believe in drafty windows and creaking floorboards, the spooky noises old houses made as they settled in the night. The Haus was falling apart, everyone knew that. The pipes groaned and the heater creaked and the howling wind found its way into every crack and hole it could find. That’s all it was. Just normal noises. 

But the moaning in Bitty’s ear didn’t  _ sound _ like the wind or the pipes - it sounded like someone was right behind him, whimpering and groaning in eternal agony from another plane of existence and-  _ get it together, Bittle. _

Bitty squeezed his eyes shut, willing sleep to come.  _ The Haus is old _ , he thought,  _ It’s older than Moomaw’s house, and Moomaw’s house makes scary noises at night, too. It’s just the wind. It’s just the pipes. The heater. The draft. It’s nothing to be scared of. _

Then something - someone? - pulled the blankets from his body and Bitty was out the door in a flash, Señor Bunny tucked under his arm. 

“Now he’ll run to Jack’s room,” Mandy said to Jenny. “And Jack’ll awkwardly offer to share his bed and  _ BAM! _ They’ll get their heads outta their asses.” 

Jenny hummed in agreement. The same tactics worked pretty well with Ransom and Holster, though Holster was usually grumpy about sharing his bed. But surely it would work for Bitty and Jack! They were, like,  _ made _ for each other. 

“Let’s go watch,” Mandy said, holding out her hand. Jenny took it and they floated across the hall into Jack’s room. Where Jack was asleep.  _ Alone _ . 

“Dammit,” Mandy hissed. “Where did Bitty go?” 

Jenny pouted. “Must’ve gone downstairs. He’s probably baking again.” 

“Hmph.” Mandy glared at Jack, then grinned. “Okay, change of plans. We wake Jack up, he goes down to the kitchen for water, he sees Bitty all scared, he comforts Bitty, and then they make out in the kitchen until Bitty feels better. It’s foolproof.” 

Jenny smirked at her girlfriend. “That’s what you said about the last plan.” 

Mandy rolled her eyes. “We got this. Remember when we got Johnson and his girlfriend together at that party?” 

“Yeah, but…” Jenny shrugged. “I think Johnson could  _ see _ us. Kept going on about ‘minor plot points not necessary to the overall narrative, but enjoyable for the readers of fan-created, canon-divergent media’ - whatever  _ that _ means.” 

“Weird dude,” Mandy muttered. Then, louder, “I will get these two dummies together if it’s the last thing I do- no, don’t correct me, I know I’m dead, Jen, shut up.” 

Jenny held back a laugh. “Okay, okay. Would you like to do the honors?” 

Mandy grinned. 

Jack Zimmermann woke up to someone screaming. On any given night, he might’ve assumed it was Shitty, curled up on the bed next to him and looking for someone to talk to. But the scream was high and shrill and terrifying, and when he sat up Jack could see Shitty asleep in his own room through the open bathroom doors. 

_ It was a dream _ , he thought, heart still racing as he looked around the room.  _ Nobody screamed. _

Jack still felt shaken, though, so he crawled out from under his tangle of sheets and slipped downstairs, careful to avoid the creaky step that often woke up Bittle and Shitty. He headed for the kitchen, pulling out a saucepan and the carton of milk that Bittle had hidden behind two liters of Coke. The kitchen itself was dark and empty and silent, save for the sound of the stove as Jack turned on one of the burners with a soft  _ click _ . 

“Where is he?” Mandy asked. “Where did Bitty  _ go _ ?” 

“For a walk?” Jenny suggested, though she knew it was unlikely. It was snowing outside and Bitty did  _ not _ deal with the cold very well. “Maybe he’s bunking with Ransom and Holster.” 

“Dammit,” Mandy said with a sigh. “Screaming took up all my energy. I think we need to cut our losses and call it a night.” 

Jenny nodded, feeling as disappointed as Mandy looked. Jack finished heating up his milk and poured it into a mug, then wandered from the kitchen into the living room. Jenny followed him, out of habit more than out of curiosity. 

She couldn’t help the “aww!” that she cooed as Jack stopped in the doorway. Just over his shoulder, she could see that Bitty was curled up in one of the armchairs, fast asleep, Señor Bunny squeezed tightly in his arms. 

There was a split second where Jenny thought Jack might wake Bitty up, or maybe carry him back to bed. Instead, Jack smiled softly and set down his milk, then left the room. Before Jenny could chase after him and scare him back into the living room, he returned, blankets from the hall closet piled high in his arms. He laid them across Bitty one-by-one, making sure every part of Bitty was covered and tucked in tight. Soon, Bitty was bundled in a nest of blankets, the tension in his body dissipating. Jack stepped back and examined his handiwork for a moment, then grabbed his milk and left without a word. 

“Oh, that was cute,” Mandy said, floating just behind Jenny. 

“I know, right?” Jenny turned to Mandy and grinned. “Let’s go read Holster’s magazines or something.”

“And plot our next move?” Mandy asked, bumping her shoulder against Jenny’s. 

“Um, obvi.” 

 

+i.

This was probably the most extreme thing Jenny and Mandy had ever gone to in the name of matchmaking. But Mandy had started looking manic as of late, so determined to show Jack and Bitty what they were too stubborn to see, that Jenny knew it was either  _ this _ or watching Mandy go full Paranormal Activity on everyone. This seemed less likely to get them exorcised.

It was eleven at night when they enacted their plan. There wasn’t a party going on, but the boys - plus the Frogs and Lardo -  were gathered in the living room playing Mario Kart. Bitty was making cookies in the kitchen, drifting back and forth, a beer bottle dangling loosely from one hand, a tipsy flush on his cheeks.  Jack watched the door like a hawk, grinning every time Bitty came back. 

When Mandy cut the power, the first reaction was outrage. “I WAS SO CLOSE!” Ransom shouted, throwing his hands into the air. “I WAS WINNING!” 

Shitty and Jack both groaned. “We have to, like, fix that, don’t we?” Shitty asked, words a little slurred. Jack nodded tersely. 

“C’mon,” Jack said, nudging Shitty up. “Dex,” he called after a moment. “You, too. I don’t actually trust Shitty around a toolbox.” 

Bitty popped back into the living room, grumbling something about his oven, the flashlight on his phone nearly blinding everyone else. “Who forgot to pay the electric bill? Shitty?” 

“I paid it!” Shitty cried indignantly. “I promise!” 

“The neighbors’ lights are still on,” Dex said, exasperated. “And Shitty paid the bill. We probably blew a fuse. Everyone calm down.” 

Nursey chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day where William Poindexter was the one telling people to chill.” 

Even in the dark, the nasty look Dex shot Nursey was plain to see. Chowder moved to sit between them, rambling on about how he was scared of the dark as a kid and how his sisters would put on shadow-puppet shows for him after their parents had gone to bed. 

“The fuse box is in the basement,” Jack said in his loudest captain’s voice. The room fell silent. “Dex and I will fix whatever’s going on. Nobody leave this room.”

Naturally, as soon as Jack left the room, the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team fell into chaos. 

“What if it was the ghosts?” Holster asked, tugging on Ransom’s sleeve. Ransom batted his hands away. Jenny and Mandy exchanged a look. 

“It wasn’t, because  _ ghosts don’t exist _ ,” Ransom hissed. 

“Maybe it was an axe-murderer,” Lardo said coolly, raising an eyebrow. “They’ve already managed to separate us. Jack and Dex are the first to go.”

Shitty snickered. “I bet the phone lines are cut, too.” 

“If we  _ had _ a landline, bro,” Lardo said. “The doors are locked from the outside.”

“Ooh, yeah,” Shitty said, grabbing Bitty’s phone and illuminating his face from underneath, giving them all a spooky smile. “Soon, one of us will leave to see why Jack and Dex are taking so long. Maybe someone else will get up to go to the bathroom.” He chuckled softly, grin widening. “And then there’ll be  _ one _ .”

“Bro, chill,” Nursey said, voice wavering a little. “You’re scaring Bitty.”

Bitty rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh. Look, this is great, but I’m gonna go check on Jack and Dex - y’know, the only two rational, level-headed people in this Haus, apparently.” 

“Don’t do it, Bits!” Lardo cried, laughing a little. “The murderer is gonna get you!” 

“Y’all, honestly.” Bitty snatched his phone from Shitty’s hand and headed towards the basement. He was stopped by Chowder, who had wrapped his arms around Bitty’s legs.

“Jack told us to stay here!” Chowder cried. “What if there  _ is _ a murderer?” 

“Oh, gosh,” Bitty said, trying to extricate himself from Chowder’s grip. “Hun, nobody’s trying to murder the hockey team.” 

“We  _ do _ have a lot of enemies,” Holster said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. 

“The LAX team,” Ransom suggested. “Half the people who’ve ever sat near us in the library…”

“The women’s rugby team.”

“All of the a capella groups.” 

“The Dean of Students.” 

“Coach Hall’s wife.” 

“Campus Security.” 

“The check-out people at Racist Stop-n-Shop.” 

“That one Uber driver…” They both shuddered at some unknown memory. 

Bitty gave them an unimpressed look. “I don’t really want to know what you did to piss  _ all _ of those people off, but I can assure everyone that none of them are trying to murder us.” 

“But what if they  _ are _ ?” Lardo asked dramatically, and she and Shitty cackled in unison. Nursey and Chowder both looked a little scared. Bitty rolled his eyes. 

“Then I’ll die knowing that it was probably Holster and Ransom’s fault,” he deadpanned, finally freeing his legs from Chowder’s arms. “I just want to see if they need any help. I’ll be right back.”

“Famous last words, Bitty!” Ransom called. “Famous! Last! Words!”

As Bitty got to the basement door, it opened and Dex reappeared, running a hand through his hair. He raised an eyebrow at Bitty, then gave him a knowing look as the shouts and cries from the living grew louder. 

“Y’all doin’ okay?” Bitty asked. Dex shrugged. 

“Yeah, but your toolkit sucks, so I’m gonna run back to my dorm and get mine,” he said.

Bitty grimaced, nodding towards the living room. “Walk fast,” he pleaded. “They think we’re in a slasher film.” 

Dex sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, okay, I shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes. Be back soon.” 

He brushed past Bitty, and everyone screamed as he popped into the living room. Bitty sighed and poked his head into the basement stairwell, looking for Jack. 

“This is our chance,” Mandy hissed in Jenny’s ear. “Change of plans.”

Bitty began making his way slowly down the stairs. With a quick wink at Jenny, Mandy slammed the door shut behind Bitty and held it locked tight. From the other side, Bitty yelped.

Not one to miss a show, the girls drifted through to the other side. Bitty was clutching at his chest, stock-still on the top step. Jack pointed his own flashlight up the stairs and grinned. 

“Come to join the party, Bittle?” He asked. Bitty snorted. 

“Came to escape the others, but then the door slammed…” He reached out and tried the knob, huffing a little when it wouldn’t move. “Gosh darnit,” he muttered, and pocketed his phone so he could shake the handle with both hands. 

Jack jogged up the stairs and placed a hand on Bitty’s back. “Not been eating enough protein,” he chirped, and both Mandy and Jenny groaned. This boy was  _ so obvious _ . 

“Hardy-har, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty said, failing to hide his smile. “If you’re so strong,  _ you _ open the door.” 

Jack bumped Bitty out of the way with his hip, chuckling a little as Bitty sputtered with indignation. Jack shook the knob, shoving against the door with all his might, and Mandy struggled a little to keep it closed. Jenny could feel her draining the energy from Bitty’s phone, and the light sticking out of his pocket quickly died. 

“Shoot,” he muttered as he was left in darkness. Jack’s flashlight was their only source of light now, and Jack handed it to Bitty as he began slamming his shoulder against the door. 

“Damn,” Jack said, kicking at the doorframe in frustration. “The lock must be broken. We’ll have to wait until Dex gets back.” 

Bitty sighed - almost a whimper - and sat down on the step, pulling his knees to his chest. Jack sat next to him, their shoulders brushing. 

“This house is falling apart,” Jack said, laughing softly. “It’s a wonder it hasn’t been condemned yet.” 

“I don’t suppose  _ you _ have your phone?” Bitty asked. Jack shook his head, barely visible in the dying light of the flashlight. “Dex said he’d be about fifteen minutes.” 

Jack groaned. “Well, if I’m going to be stuck in a dark basement with someone, I’m glad it’s at least  _ you _ , Bittle.”

Even in the dark, Jenny could see Bitty’s face turn pink. “Uh, yeah. Um. Same,” he said, flustered. “I mean. I’m glad it’s you and not, like, Holster.” 

Jack chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound deep in his chest. “He’s freaking out about ghosts right now, isn’t he?”

“Axe murderers, actually,” Bitty said with a laugh. “They all are. Shitty and Lardo are terrible influences.” 

“Oh, I’m aware,” Jack said fondly. Then, after a moment, he asked, “Are  _ you _ scared, Bittle?”

Bitty snorted. “Of axe murderers in the Haus? No.” 

“Then why are you shaking?” 

Jenny and Mandy exchanged a look. Was this-? Was he gonna-? 

“Oh, um.” Bitty looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I just don’t like the dark very much.” 

Jenny grabbed Mandy’s hand, vibrating with anticipation. 

“Oh,” Jack said, a little awkwardly. “Yeah, me neither.” 

Bitty gave him an incredulous look. “Mr. Zimmermann, afraid of the dark?” 

Jack snorted. “Afraid of the unknown, more like.” 

With a sigh, Bitty’s face softened. “Then why don’t you seem scared right now?” 

Jack shrugged, looking away. “I guess ‘cause I’m with you.” 

Jenny was almost certain Ransom could hear her squeals from upstairs. Mandy was spinning in circles, clutching at her chest. 

“Oh.” Bitty looked stunned, but inched closer to Jack, fidgeting with his hands. “Really?” 

Jack shrugged again and looked back to Bitty. “You make me feel safe. Like coming home.” 

If she wasn’t already dead, Jenny was certain Jack Zimmermann would’ve killed her by now. That boy was  _ so romantic _ and  _ didn’t even know it- _

“Oh,” Bitty said again. Then, he whispered, “I feel strong when I’m with you. Like I can do anything.”

“Even when the Haus ghosts have locked you in a basement?” Jack chirped fondly. Bitty huffed.

“If I have to hear about those darn ghosts again-”

Jack smiled softly. “I’ve very grateful for those ghosts right now.” 

Jenny and Mandy high-fived. 

Bitty looked up at him, their faces centimeters away. “Yeah, I guess I am, too. Or the axe-murderer.” 

“Yeah,” Jack breathed, eyes hooded now as he moved forward. “Cool guy.”

Their mouths met halfway. The kiss was soft, tentative, but quickly deepened as Bitty shifted his body to face Jack. Jack cupped Bitty’s cheek in one hand and ran the other through his hair, brushing his thumb across the short stubble along the nape of his neck. Bitty grasped at the front of Jack’s shirt, pulling him closer.

Jenny could feel when Mandy unlocked the door, like a heaviness was dropping from her shoulders. They grinned at each other, high on a sense of accomplishment.

“You know,” Bitty said, pulling away. “Dex doesn’t  _ really _ need our help when he gets back.”

Jack cleared his throat. “Yeah. We’d probably just get in his way.” 

“But the boys are all still out there yellin’ about slasher movies,” Bitty said, twisting the hem of Jack’s shirt between his fingers. “We should probably avoid the living room for a while…”

Jack grinned, nipping at Bitty’s lips again. “My room’s pretty quiet,” he offered. “Especially with the door closed. But we should stick together,” he added, trailing kisses down Bitty’s neck. “In case the murderer tries to get us.”

“Well, then, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty said, voice dropping lower. “How could I refuse an offer like that? For safety, of course.” 

“Mhmm,” Jack mumbled against Bitty’s collarbone. “Safety.”

Jenny and Mandy left then, grinning and babbling and giggling as they floated up to the attic. As they floated above Ransom's bunk, Jenny pressed a soft kiss to Mandy's lips, but the both of them were grinning too widely for much else. It was official: they were the best matchmakers  _ ever _ . 

**Author's Note:**

> if there's anything i love more than writing, it's writing about ghosts. (especially goofy sapphic sorority ghosts who just these want dumb boys to smooch.) i'm on tumblr [here](www.eve-baird.tumblr.com) if you wanna say hi.


End file.
